


Patience Is A Virtue

by t4lkhouse



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), but i just ended up hurting my feelings even more instead, i’m heartbroken, so yeah it’s sad, steve rogers is an idiot, this was supposed to be a fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 14:47:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t4lkhouse/pseuds/t4lkhouse
Summary: Bucky was always the patient one.Steve was always the impatient one.This is what happens when you love selfishly, and without fear.





	Patience Is A Virtue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic that I’m posting on here so just be warned that I’m a complete amateur!
> 
> I wrote this purely out of grief after not being able to think about literally anything else for the past 2 days
> 
> Not proof read and it’s 2am so forgive me for any mistakes.

Bucky was always the patient one. 

He’s known it forever, and it’s one of only two truths he’s sure of.

Even way back, before the war - a long, long time ago now - Bucky was the one who could wait. He waited hours by Steve’s bedside when he was sick. Waited for his fever to break, for his frail body to stop shaking. He waited for his next paycheck, for the next measly dollar and a half, so that he could buy bread and apples and medicine. He waited for his draft, anxiety bordering impatience, because he knew it was inevitable.

And when he finally shipped off, all he did was lie in wait for hours, finger hovering over the trigger of the sniper, brow pressed to the scope. Waited for the enemy, waited for the one time he wouldn’t be so lucky. At first he said his prayers, and wondered how many other people were waiting for divine intervention to come and save them. But sometime after the tenth bullet, or maybe it was the hundredth, he decided wasn’t sure he believed in God anymore, so he thought about home instead.

Home was a little pale face with two blue eyes burning fiercely, and a halo of blond hair to match. 

Home was a good thing to think about, as it distracted him from the horrors of war, even if it made him sick with longing. But it was a pleasure to pass the time, so Bucky thought about home, and waited. It wasn’t easy being patient, but he’s always been a man of duty. He prides himself upon it, just like Steve.

And then it happened. Had he been asking for it? Was his patience a thinly-veiled plea for help? Or had he always been passive?

He suspects he’s always been secretly desperate. 

And when Bucky belonged to Hydra, when he wasn’t Bucky but just the Soldier - a thing, a weapon - he still waited. When he was in the chair, under ice, on a mission - he was waiting for release, to be woken, to complete. And even though he might not have always known, he was waiting for Steve to come and take him home.

There was one time, in the Hole. The Soldier had defected, failed to follow orders. So they put him in the dark and waited for him to learn his lesson. For three days and three nights the Soldier waited. It was cold, and his arm burned where they had removed it roughly, but he lay very still and waited. He suddenly recalled a memory, from a different life maybe, of lying on a steel table, and waiting with the same numb panic. It shouldn’t have been possible, but it had been a while since he was last in the chair, so maybe this was just the Soldier’s brain breaking. But he knew that sooner or later, his handlers would come back and take him away, to wipe him, and nothing would remain. This moment too would be lost. Memory was fleeting, as worthless and evanescent as his interrupted existence.

So the Soldier let himself remember. It was a comfort to him, because in that memory, he was also alone in the dark with a fractured mind. But in the memory, the waiting was worth it, because someone said ‘Bucky?’ and although the Soldier wasn’t sure who that was, he knew it meant that someone had come for him. The Soldier remembered blue eyes burning fiercely, and a halo of golden hair to match. The Soldier remembered home, but bigger. 

But that time in the Hole, the Soldier knew he wasn’t going to be saved. 

No one said ‘Bucky?’ because who the hell was Bucky? And home seemed so far away.

He waited, but he never came.

So, even though he might not remember it all, it’s all he’s ever known. Bucky will wait forever, has to, because he doesn’t know how to do anything else. He’s a hundred years old and he’s spent his whole damn life waiting on some idiot who for can’t wait for him. 

Because the other truth is that Steve was always the impatient one. Could never keep still, could never keep his mouth shut, even for his own good. He was always starting fights, and leaving Bucky to finish them. Ever since he was small, Steve burned with an energy that couldn’t be contained. Bucky has never known anyone so eager to prove himself, to make a change, to take on the whole world.

He was born with a restless spirit, that’s what Bucky used to say every time Steve refused to stay in bed when he was sick, rambling nonsense about going out to work. 

Bucky also used to say: ‘Patience is a virtue,’ whenever Steve got antsy about whatever injustice he wasn’t able to correct at that moment. And Steve would say: ‘Don’t you get all high and mighty on me now, Buck. Don’t act like you’re some kinda saint.’ And Bucky would just laugh and force him back into bed, or drag him away from the fight, but inside he was always crying a little. 

Because Steve was right. 

(As he always is, the bastard.)

Bucky was a sinner. A patient one perhaps, but a coward nonetheless.

Steve was the virtuous one. Bucky’s just glad people recognise that now.

Steve would gladly tear himself apart trying to do the right thing, and his impatience was at the heart of it all. It was the best kind of bravery, the fearlessness and selflessness that inspired every hopeless act of heroism. He could never wait, because every moment was the moment that needed to be seized. Maybe it was a side-effect of being on the verge of death most of the time, but goddamn it if Bucky wasn’t green with envy, and bursting with pride. 

Steve was the biggest blessing of all. Bucky’s just glad he got to know him, to have him to himself for a few precious moments.

Bucky’s patience is selfish, because it’s not about him. It’s about Steve, always has been, always will be. He’s been silently greedy for forever now, wanting and waiting but always still, calm, collected. He’ll do anything, even if that means doing nothing. If there’s even the slightest chance that he can go home again, Bucky will wait for it.

He’ll wait for Steve until the end of time. 

And it hurts because Steve is stupid and reckless, and above all: impatient. He wants to do everything, thinks he can do anything. His heart is so big, and so full of love. How selfish of Bucky to think he could have him forever.

Bucky’s a tin man now, made of metal and with an empty chest that echoes when you knock it. He’s rusted in place, stuck in the ground and waiting for Steve to come back to him.

It’s just bad luck, at the end of the day. They were always at the wrong place at the wrong time. It’s a sick joke played by the universe, thinks Bucky when he’s feeling particularly bitter. Who started the explosion, the Big Bang of tragedy, that sent them hurtling off in different directions, colliding with each other only to fly further apart each time? 

But Bucky will be damned if he’s not going to wait until they finally catch up with each other. Because they deserve a happy ending, don’t they? 

But maybe they deserve different things. Should be expected really, if one’s a sinner and the other’s a saint. Maybe they were never meant to end up together. 

And then it happens.

It’s time for choices. Bucky already knows his. Knows Steve’s too, and is doing his best to make peace with it.

Steve’s gone. He made his choice, he chose Peggy. He allowed himself to be selfish, just like Bucky did. He should have seen it coming, but he’s too blindly stubborn. They both are.

They’re so similar, it’s almost cruel. And the one time they’ve both made their selfish choice, it’s seen them torn apart forever. And it’s fine, Bucky thinks. It’s completely fine. It’s just funny, because they were supposed to reach the end of the line together.

So Bucky just says, ‘I’m gonna miss you.’ and it’s true. He’s never meant anything more. The missing tin man heart is breaking. He’ll never stop missing Steve, and he’ll forever feel like a part of him is missing. Most of all, he’ll always wish he was good enough to go home.

Steve’s gone. He should have said good-bye. They both know he’s not coming back.

*

There’s one more truth. Bucky’s just realising it now.

They’re with each other till the end of the line, but it’s not one line, it’s two: running parallel to each other so that they never meet.

That line is also a loop, and there is no end.

Bucky will always be waiting for Steve.

**Author's Note:**

> Any kind of feedback would be greatly appreciated :)
> 
> I also now realise that this doesn’t make any sense and probably needs a happy ending... apologies...
> 
>  
> 
>  


End file.
